


I.A.N. (In a name)

by Narya



Series: Uhane Hele [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: ASL, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Insomnia, M/M, Muteness, Not Really Character Death, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 02:42:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14346294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narya/pseuds/Narya
Summary: Steve has been retired for years but the nightmares still come in the night, taking his voice night after night.Maybe he needs a mission to distract him from the way he still can't take control of his life... and the new dark haired roadie looks like just the mission he wants.





	1. Prologue: Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Many MANY, SO MANY, thanks to my beta Louise (MissSlothy) who is the best ever and I wouldn't have done even half of what I have without them. If we were in even the same continent I'd totally invite you to a beer or twenty.  
> You are the most awesomest Beta to ever Beta.

 

 

 

 

_It’s raining, it always is._

_Steve’s vision is failing, darkening at the edges as he struggles to breathe.  But he can still see Victor Hesse looking down at him. His gun is on the floor, on the other side of the warehouse.  He’s seconds away from blacking out._

_Hesse’s boot on his throat is too much and he’s losing precious seconds trying to keep it from choking him, but right now the boot looks more terrifying than the gun that’s pointing at  his head. He tries punching Hesse’s leg and falls short: he has no strength left. He tries screaming for help but nothing happens._ _  
_   
He screams and screams and no one comes to his rescue.

_His father’s voice sounds faint on a phone receiver, somewhere. He can’t see it… but he’s memorized perfectly what his father sounds like on that phone.  He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget it._

_Victor looks down at him, the gun just inches from Steve’s face.  Steve hears the trigger and the sound of the bullet being fired. Then the world explodes and goes completely dark around him._ _  
_ _  
_ _He never stops screaming._


	2. Chapter 1: Disappearing

Some nights

I feel like I'm watching your red tail lights

Disappearing

 

Read more: [ Dan Wilson - Disappearing ](http://www.metrolyrics.com/disappearing-lyrics-dan-wilson.html#ixzz3leIgW07B)

  
  
  
  
  
  


They’re at it again. Well, they are _going_ to be at it again. Her Mom has been pacing the hall all night, and the frown on her face is getting deeper and deeper as the night goes on. Grace thinks it’s because her Mom has put on her cute black dress and Danno isn't there to take her to dinner like he promised; even Monica, who usually stays with Grace when her parents go out, has come and gone. Her mom had been crying a while ago, Grace heard her, calling Danno all sorts of names, but she’s just angry now. Pacing and buffing by the front door, waiting for Danno to get home.

And Danno isn't there yet.

The front door open and closes: Grace starts. Usually she's able to tell just how mad her Mom is depending on how long it takes her to talk after the door opens, but the amount of time that it’s taking her now is a new record.

"Daniel." Oh no. Mom must be really really mad tonight.

There's silence once more, and Grace tries to disappear into her blankets. She hates it when this happens, when her Mom goes silent in fury and Danno shushes when really he wants to scream. It's always worst when it's like that, like the fight never really happens and it's just lingering, simmering, until one of them cracks.

"Danny?" And that's new. Her mom sounds almost scared and that's not normal.

Grace makes a decision, one that’s about to change everything about her life, even though she's too young to understand the importance of it.

She gets out of bed, and tiptoes down the hallway to the stairs. The voices carry better on the staircase and she hears more of what's happening elsewhere in the house.

"Talk to me, Danny. What’s happened?  You look awful."

There’s a gasp, and Grace knows just like she knows when her Mom is mad or her Danno is sad, that something really bad happened. She goes a few steps down, tries to see what’s going on from the landing, and is surprised when she sees Danno on the couch, with his hands in his hair and a miserable look on his face. He looks sadder than he’s ever looked before, and Grace feels like she should go hug him. It’s her Mom’s face that stops her, because instead of looking mad or sad for him, she looks scared. Really, really scared.

"Matty’s dead, Rachel.  He's dead."

Danno’s voice is barely more than a whisper, but the house is so silent it rings through to Grace as clear as if he’d whispered in her ear. She hasn’t seen Uncle Matt in ages but she’d liked him. She doesn't want him to be dead. This night is turning into nightmare she can't wait to wake up from.

"The guy... He threatened me too, there's some money involved... "

"How much money, Danny?"

"Too much, I'd never be able to get it. He thinks Matt left it to me somewhere..."

"What are we supposed to do now?" Her Mom is mad again. It’s kind of weird how fear has changed the focus of her fury Grace thinks, as she sits down on the landing. "Are we in danger?"

Danno nods, avoiding her Mom's eyes.

"This is all your fault!  What are we supposed to do?"

"Maybe you should take up your boss’s offer. Get out of Newark, take Grace away." Danno gets up and Mom follows him, rage written across her face.

"Daniel! It would break us, and you know it... We're barely hanging on as it is."

Grace goes back to her room as softly as she can and closes the door, just as her parents come upstairs to their room. Their voices still carry but they’re talking too fast and too softly for her to make out what they are saying.  It sounds really bad thought, as bad as she imagined it would be when she saw her Mom crying in her room earlier. She still can't believe that Uncle Matt is gone.

Their bedroom door opens and slams shut. She hears the click of her Mom’s heels as she walks down the hallway, to the kitchen. The springs on her parents’ bed squeak when Danno sits down.

Grace opens her door a tiny bit and peeks out. The lights have been turned out in the hallway but there’s a light coming from her parents' room, so she walks in there, softly.

Danno is sitting on the bed, holding his forehead in his hands.  He’s gulping air like breathing is really hard. Before he can notice she’s there she walks up to him and gives him a big hug.

A huge sob breaks through him, and Grace wants to cry with him too. Danno must be really sad, and missing his brother like crazy, and he’s always sad when he and Mom fight. He must be feeling really bad right then, and she doesn't like it.

“Don’t cry, Danno.”

“Monkey, it’s ok. Sometimes you have to cry, you know?” he says with a sad smile, which makes her feel sad too. “It helps everything get better.”

“Are you going to get better?” she asks, because Danno sounds like he's lying, like he’s promising something he isn't sure he'll be able to keep.

“I don’t know, Grace, but I’ll try, ok?” he says, hugging her as he stands up. Now that they're standing she can see a small bag on the bed beside him.  Inside are a few shirts all crumpled up and his badge.

Before she can say anything he walks her back to her bedroom.  Tucking her in, he kisses on the forehead. He hugs again then gets up again.

She grabs his hand before he can leave.  “Danno, where are you going?”

“Don’t worry, Monkey.  There’s something I’ve got to do.  Look after your Mom for me, okay?” he says with a smile that looks really sad.

“Be safe, Daddy, please.” Grace's grip on his hand was tight, and she’s afraid, but Danno takes her hand in his and kisses it.

“It’s gonna be hard for you and your Mom for a while.  But I promise you’ll be okay,” he says, kissing her hair and running a hand down her braids. “You need to trust your Mom, and listen to everything that she says... and remember always that Danno loves you.”

“But I want _you_ to be safe, Danno, too.” She grips his hand tighter as she tries not to cry.

“I’ll try my best, Monkey.” He kisses her again and gets up.  

“I love you, Danno.”

“And Danno loves you, Grace,” he says before closing the door, and for a few seconds her world is alright again.

She sits on the bed for a while and listens; to the noise of the street and the cars going down the road, the neighbor’s cat and Mr. Jenkins playing piano on the house next to theirs. The city was so silent just before, when her mom was furious and the fight was a potential and not a reality. Everything is noise now, the city is alive with sounds that are making her head spin. Then she listens harder; to her Mom filling the kettle in the kitchen and her Danno crying softly in the bedroom, and everything goes back to the nightmare it was.

She snuggles further down into her blankets, replaying Danno’s words in her head, time and time again.

Later, as she feigns sleep, Danno slips back into her room, closing her window until there’s just a sliver open. The sound of the cars outside can still be heard and it’s a comfort for a while. He runs his hands down her hair and kisses her cheek and she wants to cry when he whispers softly into her ear:

“I love you so much, Grace. I’m so sorry.”

Once Danno’s gone she sneaks out again, sitting down at the top of the stairs where she can listen to her Mom talking downstairs.

Her Mom is crying angrily, but softly, like she’s trying to make sure Grace won’t hear her in her room.

“I’m not sure about this,” her Mom says.  “Your family is here in Jersey. Las Vegas...it’s a big change for Grace…”

“He’s offering you a life you'll never be able to have here, Rachel, and I’ll always love you… but we fell out of love years ago. Maybe in time we'll be able to look back and… I don't know,” Danno says.

He sounds so tired and sad that Grace wants to go down there to cry at him, hug him until it all gets better. It sounds like they're splitting, and while it's sad she isn't really sad about them being apart; they fight more often than not. She's sad because she loves them and they’re hurting.  She gets up carefully, trying to not to make the floorboards squeak. Slowly she edges further down the stairs so she can see them. She wants to hug them so bad.

“What are you gonna do when you catch these guys?”

“We’ll figure it out when it happens. I don’t know where I’m gonna stay. I guess you can mail the papers to me at the precinct.” The pain in his voice makes her feel like crying again.

“What are _we_ supposed to do in the meantime?” her Mom asks.

Danno takes something from out of his pocket and puts it in her Mom's hand. He closes his hands around hers.

“You wait… but not too long. If anything happens to me you get out of here and you call that number. You talk only to Myriam and do everything she asks you to do,” her Dad insists.  She can’t see his face but she knows his voice, he's being completely serious.

“What… is this some sort of… some sort of protection service? _Seriously_?  Is that how much trouble we’re in, Danny?  Is it?” Her Mom sounds angry again but she looks so sad.

Danno only nods.

“Are you leaving, then?”

“Yeah…” His voice breaks before he can say anything else.

There’s silence for a moment then her Mom steps back and turns away.  “Fine. Go on, then. Leave us here.”

It’s a tense moment that follows. Grace goes back upstairs as Danno heads for the door. When she looks out her bedroom window, Danno is throwing his bag into the back seat of his car and taking out his phone. He calls someone and when they don’t answer, he keeps redialling until they pick up.

The window is still open.  She can just about hear what he says.  

“Toast, it’s me, Detective Williams. I’m cashing in that favor. I need you to get me a new ID… no, on the DL… yeah… I’m not going rogue, what even is that... ” He gets in the car and starts it up. His voice goes quiet inside the car and the engine noise covers the rest of his words.

He drives down the road and Grace doesn’t cry until the tail lights disappear around a corner. Running back to her bed she hides under her blankets. She cries for a long time but eventually she falls asleep when her tears exhaust her.

In the morning, when her mother wakes Grace, she looks even worse than she had the night before.

“Grace, darling, we need to talk,” she says, and her voice sounds rough.

  


00000

  


She’s wearing a black, long-sleeved dress with frills on the collar and white stockings. It’s uncomfortable and too hot for the weather when it’s also coupled with a coat and a hat; but her Mom and Aunt Stella look sad and she doesn’t want to bother them.  

They have breakfast and her cousin, Eric, makes sure she has pancakes with her milk. He tries to make her laugh and it works for a while. But she can tell he’s feeling sad really and it’s too easy to remember why they are there. There’s a lot of conversations around the house and she keeps hearing Danno’s name being mentioned in worried, hushed tones.  Through all the noise she hears her Mom talking to someone on the phone in a serious voice.

“...Yes, I’m sure, I’m really sure about this, now more than ever.  Danny should be here instead of leaving all this mess for me to fix…..No. I’m sure this is it for our marriage...I’ve tried, I really have but…”

Grace pouts at her pancakes and tries not to listen anymore. Everyone’s so busy around her she doubts they’ll notice how sad she feels.

They leave the house in a procession of cars. She’s riding with her Mom and Eric, and they meet everyone else at the cemetery. It’s clearly packed with more people than she’d  expected.

“Uncle Matt knew everyone,”  Eric explains, when he sees her face.  

Her Mom makes her go and say hello and hug everyone she meets. She doesn’t even know half the people who introduce themselves to her Mom. Or that her Mom introduces her to.

Grandma Clara and Grandpa Eddie are crying and Grace doesn’t know what to do. She’d said hello earlier and she got some really tight hugs, but she doesn’t think they’re up to speaking to anyone. They look like they want to be anywhere but here.

Everyone is really sad, and she’s sad too, but she doesn’t understand yet why Uncle Matt is never coming back. It still feels like a nightmare she’s going to wake up from at some point. It doesn’t really seem real and Danno’s not there to help her put it all right.

She tightens her hand on her Mom’s but she seems too distracted to notice. People have been asking her mom about dad all day, and she looks tired of explaining she doesn’t know where he is. There’s a lot of people around Grace but she still feels really alone.

She tugs her hand free and walks around while people wait for the priest to arrive. There’s a casket in the middle, like the one she sees in movies sometimes; someone told her that Uncle Matt is in there but it doesn’t make sense at all because she can’t see him.

She slips away from the crowd around the casket.  The cemetery is pretty, she thinks. There’s a lot of grass and trees, and it looks a lot like a park; a big sad park, because of the tombstones and crying people. Now that she’s alone she feels like she can breathe again - the smell of the pines feels refreshing.

She feels herself tear up and scrubs at her cheeks with her hand but doesn’t try to stop it, because there’s too many people crying and she can’t do anything to help and she’s really confused and sad. Danno said it was okay to cry but she doesn’t like it.

She can see her Mom at the edge of the crowd talking to someone.  She looks relieved as she sees Grace but her Mom carries on talking.  Grace feels disappointed, part of her kind of wants to go home.

She misses her Danno.

She’s about to go back to her Mom when she sees someone standing back towards the entrance to the cemetery.  He’s wearing a baseball cap and a sweatshirt but Grace thinks they still look a lot like her Danno. She looks back at her Mom but she’s trying to placate one of the relatives and isn’t looking her way.

If Grace walks a little faster than she should while wearing a nice dress and nice shoes, her Mom isn’t there to notice.

The closer she gets to the man the more certain she is that it’s Danno.  She’s about to break into a run when a hand grasps her arm, pulling her back. She turns around and sees her Mom; she looks terrified.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I was looking for Danno,” Grace explains, pointing in the direction she was going.

There’s no one there.

Her Mom looks at where  she’s pointing. “There’s no one there,” she says turning back, frustrated. “You can’t just run off without me. We’ve talked about this, Grace.” She puts an arm around Grace’s shoulder and starts walking them back to the crowd of people and the casket.  

Grace looks back a couple times, hoping to catch something. She’s sure she didn’t imagine him. The second time she looks the man is there again, and the baseball cap is gone. He’s got black hair, but he looks just like Danno. She makes a heart shape with her fingers behind her Mom’s back.

Later that night, as she’s lying in bed, she remembers that moment in the cemetery - and she’s sure that the man made a heart shape back at her.

  
  


00000

  
  


They’re moving house though she isn’t really clear where they are going; Mom wants everything to happen as fast as possible. Grace can’t help thinking that her Mom is sad, and scared, but she’s trying. At least, that’s what Grace keeps hearing her Mom say to herself when she thinks she’s alone.

Mom is packing everything in boxes and Grace’s life is slowly filling them and there isn’t anything she can do about it. The dresses and blouses go in a box with the rest of the delicate clothes, while her jeans and shirts go under some stuffed animals and toys. Her stuffed bunny is in a box and she doesn’t know which one it is. It’s silly, she’s too old for stuffed animals but she feels she needs it now more than ever.

She wanders down to the kitchen, hoping her Mom can help her find it because she doesn’t think she’s going to be able to sleep without it. Not now Danno’s left.

Her Mom is talking on the phone.  Her spine is tense, completely straight, and Grace thinks about going back to her room.

“Look, can I still serve him the papers to his workplace then? Because I have no idea where he’s staying and I’d like this issue to be resolved as quickly as possible. We’re moving next week and I’d like to deal with it now before it’s too late.” Her Mom starts pacing, running her fingers through her hair.  "Call me when you know for certain, okay? Please keep in mind that I’ve booked our tickets and I haven’t heard from him in days. I’m leaving whether he likes it or not.”

“Mommy?” Grace asks when Rachel hangs up. Her Mom turns quickly, her eyes look scared again. “Is Danno going to meet us when we get there? Where we need to be for your work?”

“I don’t know, honey.”  She looks really tired. “Your dad is really busy, but I’m sure he’ll come and visit even if he can’t live near us.”

“Why wouldn’t Danno live near us?” Grace asks.

Her mom kneels down so she’s at the same level as Grace, and tucks a stray strand of hair behind Grace’s ear.  “You know that we’re moving because I have to work there? Danny will have to talk to his boss and see if he’s allowed to move, change to another workplace … It’s really complicated.”

Grace really wants to cry.  “I miss him, Mom.” There are tears in her eyes and she can’t stop hiccuping.  Her Danno is gone and she hasn’t heard him tell her he loves her in too long.

Her mom hugs her tightly, getting her onto her lap. She feels like a kid when her Mom hugs her like that, even though she’s almost 10 now, so Grace just hugs her tightly as she cries.

“I miss him too, you know? I’m sure he’ll try to come say goodbye before we leave.”

“We’re never going to be a family again, are we?”

For a second Grace thinks her Mom is going to start crying too, but she just takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “No, no, Gracie, no. But even if Danny and I aren’t together anymore as a couple, we’ll always be your family. I’m always going to be your Mom, and Danny is always going to be your Dad. He loves you more than anything, you know that, don’t you?”

“I know,” Grace nods, “he always says so.”

“There you go, then.” Rachel smiles, it’s a sad smile, but it’s something so Grace holds onto that while her Mom wipes her cheeks. “It’s just a matter of time. Danny is really busy, there were really bad men he had to catch, but he’ll come back as soon as he catches them. You know he will.”

“I still miss him.”

“Then what about having a whole day with your Danno when he comes back? You can spend the day doing whatever you want,” Rachel says. Her mom lets her up and stands to accompany her to Grace’s room so she can tuck her in.

It takes awhile for her to fall asleep, even with her toy rabbit.

  
  


0000

 

 

Her new school isn't as fun as her old one, but it beats the depressing silence she goes home to every day. Her Mom’s new job keeps her out of the house most of the day and there's only so many extracurricular activities she can join without wanting to cry in anger and frustration. This wouldn't happen if her Danno was there with them, at the very least she'd be able to stay with him instead of having to go to her neighbor's house on Thursdays and Fridays.

She has been living in Nevada for three weeks now.  Making friends has never been so difficult for her before. All of her classmates have been in the same class since they were really little and see her as an outsider.  She misses so many things from back home. Sometimes she thinks that they can keep their stinky friendships, she doesn't need it if they don't want her.

Still, it gets really lonely in her house and her head. Dad isn't there yet, and it feels like mom isn't there either… even if she tucks her into bed almost everyday.

She just wishes things were different and they’d never moved from Jersey.

“Grace?” her Mom calls from the dining room.

Grace leaves her homework open on the bed before going to see what Mom wants. Her Mom is sitting in a chair, looking outside. She has been crying again.

“Mom?” she asks, a bit irritated.

“Sit down, Grace.”

Her Mom looks terrible, almost as bad as she did when they first came to Nevada, and Grace wants to hug her a little. She stops herself when she remembers that it's her Mom the one that wanted to move in the first place. She's the one who wanted the divorce.

“Is there something wrong?” she wonders, still a bit worried, as she sits besides her. She's not a monster. It's impossible not to feel a bit bad when your Mom looks so sad.

“Your Grandma called. Something terrible happened back in Jersey.”

Grace has to make an effort in swallowing because her mouth gets suddenly dry.  “Is Grandpa ok?”

“It's not about your Grandpa, it's about your Dad.”

Her Mom puts an arm around her and even when she tells herself she’s ready for bad news... she isn't. Tears start falling before her Mom finishes. “There was an accident, Grace.  He didn't make it. He’s gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s dead, sweetheart. There just wasn't anything that could be done when they got to him.”

Her Mom kneels in front of her to take her hands in hers but Grace can barely look at her eyes. She feels incredibly guilty.

“Was it something I said? Something I did?” she whispers.

“Oh, sweetheart!  No.” Her Mom hugs her and she wants to fight it but she needs a hug right now. “It was an accident, it was no one's fault.”

Grace knows how accidents happen, she’s fallen down while running probably more times than Danno ever felt comfortable with.  But she also knows there are things that put you at risk, especially in cars, there was a class about it at school… If Danno was speeding to get to Vegas sooner…

She sobs against her mother's neck.

“It happened a while ago, Grace. We only know about it now because it took them some time to find the car…”

“Danno’s not dead, Mom.  He can’t be,” she cries into the cradle of her arm. She wants her Mom to let her go, to stop smothering her, but she needs the contact like a lifeline, so she doesn’t fight it when she gets a stronger hug as an answer.

She has been missing him forever, and she can’t think about the possibility that she’ll never see him again. It doesn’t feel right.

She thinks back to that man, the one at Uncle Matt’s funeral and the little finger heart figure. She just cries harder.


	3. Chapter 2: I wanna hear you laugh

And oh babe, can you tell what's on my tongue?

Can you guess that I'll be gone?

With the twilight

 

Read More: [ Tompkins Square Park - Mumford & Sons ](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/mumfordsons/tompkinssquarepark.html)

  
  


It's raining.

The house is dark around him. Steve can hear his Dad talking on the phone with someone, Chin maybe. He's on edge, has been since he arrived. It feels like he’s walking into an ambush.  

He walks into the living room and sees the recorder machine on the coffee table.  It’s playing his Dad's voice on loop.

“Drop your gun, McGarrett.”

The voice has come from behind him. The safety is being pulled behind his head: he knows not to mess around. He takes his gun out slowly and puts it on the floor.  Before he can go for his ankle piece someone comes out of the kitchen. They’re holding his Dad at gunpoint.

“Stay on your feet, son. Don’t kneel to scumbags like this,” his Dad is saying, but Steve can barely hear him as the world around them explodes...

“Dad! Dad!”

Steve wakes up screaming. His ears are ringing. He isn't sure if the screams he heard from himself were real or just a memory.

He doesn't want to figure it out either way.

He's drenched in sweat but the evening isn't cold enough yet for it to be a problem. He checks the time - it barely 00:40.  He knows he won’t fall back asleep again after a nightmare like the one he’s just had so he changes from his pajamas into a shirt and jeans and goes down to the bar down the street.

It’s dark and crowded and there’s someone singing an upbeat tune into a microphone on the little stage to his left.  It’s not bad, he thinks, as he gets near the bar. He waves the bartender over and indicates the beer on tap with a smile.

“A pint?” the bartender asks, showing him the empty glass. Steve nods and gives him a thumbs up.

Steve is leaning against the bar and waiting for his beer when his phone starts vibrating in his pocket. Knowing better than to leave it for later he scrolls through his chats and checks what his fellow band members are up to now.

 

**_Chin Ho:_ ** _Kono is onto you. Save me the trouble and tell us where you are?_

**_Steve:_ ** _Where’s the fun in that?_

**_Kono:_ ** _I’m gonna find you anyway, so just tell us!_

__  
  


Steve chuckles to himself and decides to make things a little more difficult for his friends, putting the phone back into his pocket without checking it again. He’s pretty sure Kono will track it in a minute, but part of the fun is making her do it. Though given that they've all been there before it almost makes the point moot.

He listens to the guy on the stage for a while; leaning on the bar so he doesn't have to flag someone for a refill. The guy’s doing upbeat covers of usually sad songs and Steve is fascinated about it enough to forget his nightmares for a while. There’s something really amusing about listening to a singer going on about how awful his life is while still smiling. 

There's a guy at the end of the bar who seems to be amused by it too, if the way he’s grinning is any indication. Steve notices that the grin doesn't reach the guy's eyes but he knows how that feels so he just looks away when the guy catches his eye.

He's on his second beer when the door opens and Chin and Kono come in, somehow with Jerry in tow. Steve laughs and waves them over.

Jerry loses himself to the music and soon enough he’s trying to convince them to do a cover like that at some point. Steve is surprisingly for it; they’ve been playing covers at the end of their show during the tour and he's all for some silly fun at a gig.

Steve’s eyes keep going back to the other guy at the end of the bar. There's something about him that has him intrigued. Maybe it’s the way he stands? The way he carries his confidence and looks like he's three seconds from talking you into leaving the bar if you tried something funny.  Everything about him screams law enforcement but he doesn't look anything like any law enforcement person Steve’s encountered before. 

He hasn’t even spoken to the guy yet and already he wants to know more about him than he's willing to admit.

Steve nudges Chin, pointing to the man at the end of the bar.  <Hey, look at that guy>

“What about him?” Chin asks in that sign and speech combo he has been rocking for years in deference to Steve’s situation.

<He's kind of cute> Steve shrugs and takes a pull of his beer. He tries for nonchalance but Chin reads him like a book.

“I'm not playing translator so you can get laid,” he laughs. “You should start carrying calling cards or something.”

<”Hi, I'm Steve and you're hot?”>

“Well… that certainly covers all your bases,” Kono laughs. “But I agree. He's cute.”

<I know, right?> Steve grins at her.

“He looks kind of sad though,” Chin says, leaning over to get a closer look.  “I don't know if he's looking for company.” 

The guy was… unusual . Broad shoulders, thin waist, muscular arms, black messy hair, and really sad eyes that seemed about to spill over. Probably not one night stand material.

Steve drags his eyes away, shrugs, and goes back to his group. It had been a seriously fun concert the night before.  And they’re all keyed up from rehearsal earlier - he feels like there’s electricity buzzing in his veins. 

Kono looks like she’s hurrying her beer to get to the dancing portion of the night, and Chin looks like he’s about to try and actually talk to someone else at the bar for once. He missed the rest of band, but Max and Jill said there was an episode of something they wanted to catch… and who’s Steve to tell them they’re crazy.

He’s got crazy. Enough crazy for a lifetime.

When Kono finally finishes her beer and takes his hand to drag him to the dancefloor, Steve grabs his own bottle and follows. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Chin laughing at them, so Steve makes a little show for him.  It probably won’t do anything to dispel those ‘the drummer and the guitarist have a thing going on’ rumors, but what the hell. 

When Chin laughs and sign <You’re a menace> at him it just makes him care even less and laugh even more. 

They mix the dancing with more beers. The barman is very chatty: he seems to have caught their show the night before and buys Steve a beer with a wink. They spend time dancing with random people, and trying to get Chin to dance with them (he actually gives in a few times). By 3am Kono’s planned a date with some guy she met at the bar and who looks surprisingly like the guy she flirted with on stage last night.   Chin’s talking on the phone in the corner (possibly Malia, yeah… totally Malia) and the night is starting to wind down.

Steve is starting to think that maybe he should try to get the lonely guy to talk. It’s been hours and he’s still there, nursing a tumbler in his hands.  Steve doesn’t think it’s the first one they saw him with. Not that he’s been watching… but he’s sure the man’s been looking his way.

Steve gathers up his courage, then swallows the rest of this beer, giving himself an excuse to get to the bar.

“Another?” the barman asks and Steve answers with a grin and a thumbs up. Before he’s finished pouring the pint Steve motions to the barman again, nodding toward the stranger at the end of the bar and his empty tumbler.  Pulling out more bills he mimes pouring another drink. When the barman turns to get the whisky bottle off the shelf he knows he’s been understood.

The barman leaves with the whisky and presents it to the guy who asks whose it's from.  He turns and frowns and Steve pulls himself to his full height as he’s scrutinised. The man accepts the drink anyway and salutes Steve with it.  Steve takes that as a positive sign, positive enough to prompt him forward to try and strike up a conversation.

Steve gets closer and notices that the guy's posture is more open.  He’s starting to relax. Another win for team Steve. 

The guy smiles at him as Steve pulls out the chair beside him.   “I’m not used to getting drinks sent my way.” 

<You should be > Steve watches, trying to read the man’s face.  This is a test as much as anything. The chances of him understanding are really slim but he needs to know whether being mute is going to be an issue.  If it is this is going to be a short conversation. 

The man watches his hands, understanding dawning.  “Oh, man. ASL? I can understand some but honestly, I’m crap at it.”

Steve laughs because it's way better than what he expected.  Usually people have no idea.

The man narrows his eyes, watching him. “I thought...you can understand me just fine, can't you? How come?”

Steve has a standard reply for this question. He points to his ears and gives a thumbs up, then points to his mouth and moves his hand in a talking manner, then shakes his finger, no.

There's a way to say it in ASL but he can't be sure he's gonna be understood, so charades it is.

“OK. So you’re mute,” the guy declares with raised eyebrows and an ‘okay then’ face that looks promising. “I'm Ian,” he adds, offering Steve his hand. 

Chin’s right.  He really needs to get calling cards for this kind of thing. 

“You're Steve, right?” Ian asks.  “I heard your friends earlier,” he explains.

So he was watching after all.

Steve decides to stop wasting time: he’s got a better way of making himself understood.  Pulling out his phone he writes a message in his pad app and shows it to Ian.

““Wanna get out of here?” Ian reads, laughing.  “You don't lose any time, do you?” 

Steve knows he's on the right track here. He was all along. 

<You're hot and I'm not dumb> Steve signs, with a shit eating grin. 

Ian laughs.  He’s gone bright red.  “That I did get!”

They don't speak any more but hurry to finish their drinks, heat building in their eyes as they inspect each other in silence. Steve catches Chin looking his way and signs him not to wait up for him.

Ian is waiting for him in the street, shoulders up to his ears, shivering in the cold New York weather.  While it wasn't that cold earlier it's getting chilly now and Ian is wearing only a tight t-shirt that can't offer much protection. 

<My hotel?> Steve signs, pointing down the street.

Ian nods so they start walking, Steve checking him out every now and then. The guy is gorgeous but he’s got that air of sadness back.  With the cold he looks just lost and vulnerable. A broken kind of beauty.

Steve grows bold and grabs Ian's fingers. He shouldn't do this is the open, anyone could be watching, but he wants to erase that look in Ian's eyes if only for a while. 

Ian looks down at their hands and raises his eyebrows at Steve.  Steve prefers that cocky look to the lost one so he just grins. 

Steve greets the hotel doorman with a grin.  He guides Ian to the elevator with a hand on the small of his back; it fits perfectly there. Ian seems to like it if the way the back of his neck turns red is any indicator.

Steve doesn't let up when they get into the elevator, he just gets closer. Ian leans back into him and Steve grabs him by the waist.  Ian feels cold to the touch, even with the clothes, so Steve rubs his hand over his tee-shirt for a while until he feels warmer.

“You're driving me crazy, babe,” Ian mutters against his neck as he turns to look at Steve. 

<So are you> Steve signs back, leaning away a bit so that Ian can see his hands. 

He wishes he could say more, that he could sigh into Ian's ear his need and whisper sweet nothings, but he's used to the frustration of not being able to express himself fully. He’s not even sure how much Ian understands him but he’s operated under worse situations. So what if they’re flying a blind here?  Their bodies seem to know perfectly what’s going to happen and where to go.

The elevator opens and Steve guides them both down the corridor to his room. They haven’t even kissed yet, and Steve is already harder than he’s ever been for someone he’s just met. His hands are shaking as he gets the door open, pushes them through it, closing it with his foot.

Steve wastes no time pressing Ian against the door, running his hands over Ian’s shoulders as he looks into his eyes. They're breathing heavily, pupils blown and eyelids lowered. Ian's eyelashes aren't long but they're blonde, something weird considering the dark hair, but his blue eyes looking at Steve like he's a ghost so Steve quickly forgets about it. 

Steve kisses him to keep those thoughts away from him, from their night. 

It's like a switch has been turned on.

Ian surges against him, kissing him back with all he's got. There's licking and biting and sucking and Steve is surprised at the sudden surge of movement, when just seconds before Ian had been so languid… But he's not complaining. 

For all that he’s a head taller than Ian, the man’s strong, with broad shoulders and callused hands. Steve’s quickly turned around, his back hits the door. He's not gonna lie, having someone manhandle him is a turn on; there's not many people who have the strength to take him on.

“So gorgeous, babe.” Ian is taking off his shirt, kissing his collarbone and running his hands over Steve like he needs to know every inch of him.  

Steve wants to level the playing field: he wants to touch too.  Pushing against Ian, he makes quick work of his shirt, belt and zipper. He’s sure he’s got the upper hand, but when he cups Ian’s bulge he can feel that he’s soft.

Steve shrugs it off, content on trying to massage Ian to hardness and to kiss every inch of skin he can get his mouth on. 

Ian has other plans, if the way he pushes Steve on the bed is any indication.  

Steve’s goes where he’s led, helping out when Ian tries to get his pants off.  He feels like he’s about to burn from the inside when Ian mouths over his underwear, leaving a warm trail that settles something inside him. The feeling of Ian’s tongue running a line over his underwear is making him sweat and moan; he grabs onto Ian’s head in a vain attempt to gain some control over what’s happening to him. 

His underwear is soon gone and so is Steve’s mind.

Ian’s got a wicked mouth and a very vocal tongue and Steve wants that tongue in his mouth like yesterday. 

Steve grabs the back of Ian’s head, pulling him up to get his attention.  He signs <Come here> before guiding him up for a kiss. He looks into those blue eyes before leaning into a kiss that leaves Steve panting. Ian’s body covers him, all muscle and warmth, and Steve wastes no time running his hands on those hairy pecs and pink nipples. 

Ian is responsive, he still looks like he’s enjoying himself. His neck is sensitive and he moans loudly when Steve nibbles at. It’s almost enough for Steve to be able to ignore the fact that, for all that Ian’s writhing in his arms, he’s still soft in his underwear and avoiding his eyes. 

Steve puts some distance them and snaps his fingers to get Ian’s attention. <Everything ok?> he signs when Ian finally looks at him. 

Ian sighs against his chest. “Will you believe me if I blame if on the alcohol?” 

<Is it the alcohol? You know we don’t have to do this is you don’t want to>   Steve’s not sure Ian’s going be able to understand him, so he raises one eyebrow and shrugs,

“It’s not the alcohol…” Ian sighs again, frustrated.   “I don’t know what you said but… give it time? Or maybe we should just forget about it?” he offers with a tired laugh.

He sounds so sad that Steve just wants to hug him, so he does. When Ian relaxes into him he hugs him tighter, against his chest, stroking his fingers through his hair.

Fingers stroke across his chest and Steve looks down to find Ian taking a deep breath, finding some courage. So when Ian surges up to kiss him it’s no surprise.  It feels like Ian’s got something to prove, if the way he’s trying to rub his thigh against Steve is any indication. But a part of him wants to stop this, and make sure this is actually what Ian wants.  Another part of Steve’s mind is telling him to just enjoy it - why try and change Ian’s mind when he’s already decided what he wants to do?

So Steve gets on with it: if Ian is trying to find some rhythm and friction and pleasure, Steve’s gonna help him as much as he can. 

Steve surges up and turns them so he’s pinning Ian to the bed, rubbing up against him, and moaning when Ian gives as much as he’s getting. There’s a hand on his butt, stroking over his skin.  Steve wants out of his remaining clothes so he swings his feet to his floor, leaning down to take them off. He freezes as he looks over his shoulder and meets Ian’s eyes, his gaze moving down to rove over his body.  Ian’s only got his jeans on, unzipped down to the crotch, his half-naked body splayed across the bed. The guy is ridiculously handsome, with his strong jaw and his lips swollen and red. 

Ian’s really hard despite everything, and for the first time it looks like he’s really into what’s about to happen.

As Steve watches, everything changes in a flash.  It’s like Ian suddenly remembers something and his whole face melts into a expression of absolute despair. It’s there for only for a second, but it’s enough time for Steve to register what’s happening.

Ian sighs and zips up his pants. Getting up from the bed he reaches for the t-shirt Steve had thrown on the ground earlier. 

<Hey, are you ok?> Steve signs, but Ian isn’t looking at him. Steve grabs his arm to keep him from leaving, to make him look round. <Where’re you going?” 

Ian shakes Steve’s hand off. “Look, I’m sorry, I need to go.” He puts on the t-shirt and takes a deep breath. He turns to look at Steve, and while his eyes are apologetic, his face is closed off and emotionless.  “Babe, you’re gorgeous and I wish I could stay, but...I can’t. I’m sorry but… I need to go. I’m really, really sorry.”

Ian surges up and kisses him.  It’s just a peck and Steve is too dumbfounded to realize what’s happening until it’s already over, and Ian’s disappeared out of the door. 

Steve is left standing there, naked, wondering what the hell just happened.  He feels strangely bereft.

__  
  
  


00000

_ It’s raining, it always is. Victor Hesse is looking down at Steve and the edges of his vision are darkening around him. His gun is at the other side of the warehouse, and he’s blacking out. The boot on his throat is too much and he’s losing precious seconds trying to keep it from choking him, but right now the boot looks more terrifying than the gun that’s pointing at his head. He tries punching Hesse’s leg and falls short, tries lifting the feet and has no strength, he tries screaming for help but nothing happens. _

_ He screams and screams and no one ever comes. _

_ The gun and Victor look down at him, and Steve hears the trigger and the explosion of the bullet before the world goes completely dark around him.  _

_ He never stops screaming. _

 

Steve wakes up, rubs his eyes and stretches. His ears are ringing, but he knows there’s nothing there but the remnants of his dream. He goes to the bathroom and checks his tongue before peeing. His throat is sore, but the redness is gone and the bruises around his neck have disappeared completely. They’ve been gone for years now.

There’s a knock on his door.  “Rehearsal in thirty, so if you want breakfast you need to hurry!” Chin yells, his voice muffled through the door.

Steve checks his phone and sees he’s slept through his alarm. It’s difficult to keep track of time on the mainland, but the nightmares make it even worse. He’s always a bit confused afterwards, and this one is particularly bad.

He showers and dresses quickly, so by the time the whole band has arrived to do the soundcheck he’s been tuning his guitar for a while. He might not be in the best mood, but he’s never slacked off just because of a bad dream.

“We thought you were going to miss breakfast. You’re gonna need it to keep your strength up,” Kono teases, a tired smile on her face.  She looks like all the shots they drank the night before are still kicking her butt. 

<I don’t have a problem keeping anything up> he signs, wiggling his eyebrows.

“That’s  _ it?   _ That’s all you’re going to tell us about last night?”

He shrugs, giving her another smile that he knows will infuriate her.  <Are we gonna play or not?>

“Guess it didn't work so well for you last night then,” Chin shoots back. Steve can tell he's just trying to change his mood and not being mean. Steve gives him another fake smile: maybe they’ll believe he actually did have a good time if he smiles enough times.

They start soon after, Kono and Jerry turning on their mics, while everyone else grabs their instruments. After a few beats and strums Chin beats his drumsticks and gives a countdown. Music starts, extra loud as it always feels when it's just them without the audience.

It’s easy with them - it always has been. The music flows between them.  Even when there was no way for him to actually talk to them, they’d always been connected by their music.  He treasured it then, and treasures it now. 

The nightmare is still lurking but playing his guitar helps. He has to play to the beat and pay attention to what’s happening around him. He has to be focused and listen to the way Jerry croons and Kono’s bass gives him a beat. Getting dragged back into the nightmare is not an option. When rehearsal is over, he hasn’t touched his throat; he counts it as a win.

“Hey, we were thinking about having lunch at that place we saw yesterday. You’re coming, right?” Kono asks him. She’s putting her bass in its case, looking at him, waiting for an answer.

It’s not like he has better things to do.  So Steve shrugs then nods. 

Before they can go there’re instruments to be loaded. He, at the very least, has pedals and effects that need to be stored properly for transport (doesn’t matter what everyone says, he’d rather take the time to store them properly than have one malfunction on stage) and cables that he’s gonna roll himself rather than leave them for the people who’ll move them to the theater during the afternoon. 

He makes a mental note to get a roadie they can trust.

Steve catches up to Kono and Chin on their way down the hall.   Jerry and Max have gone ahead and are already at the restaurant with the rest of the crew.. They make their way walking through the streets teasing Kono about the guy she’d met at the bar and not so obviously avoiding the one Steve met.

New York has been fun, they’ve all had fun - except him.  Steve’s about ready to move to another city. He’s also ready to try to forget about Ian.

They’re well-known enough to sell out every show.  But at least they’re not really famous yet. It means they can have these fun nights without worrying about being on social media.  It also means they can make fun at the way Kono’s turning bright pink at their teasing.

Doesn’t mean they can’t make fun of the way Kono is turning all colors at their teasing. Or how Chin’s ribbing is making her just walk faster.

The restaurant is really more a hole in the wall rather than anything pretentious, and it suits them just fine. There seem to be some regular patrons, the waitresses are talking to their customers like they’ve known them forever. Steve loves the place straight away.

Jerry and Max are already seated with Jill, their manager. And they’re with someone who looks suspiciously like his date from the previous night.

At least Ian looks equally as surprised and ashamed to see him. It's not going to change much about last night, but Steve feels he's owed an explanation about what happened in his room.

Chin looks at him and raises an eyebrow. 

Steve just shakes his head in the subtlest way he can.  <Have your ordered yet?> he asks, picking the seat closer to Ian. He might be slightly pissed about last night but that doesn't mean Ian looks any less cute when he’s all flustered.

Jerry passes them the menus as everyone takes their seats.  “Nah, we were waiting for you guys.” 

Jill taps on the table to get their attention.  “Before you do, I want to introduce you to Ian Wilson. He's going to travel with us as our own personal security and roadie.” 

Ian flashes a small smile but before he can say anything Steve gets him up and ushers him out to the street.  He feel everyone’s eyes following but he doesn’t explain, just holds the door open to let Ian go through.

<What are you playing at? Roadie? Why!> Steve signs fast, completely pissed and confused.

“Look I have no idea what you said,” Ian protests with his hands raised.  “I had no idea you were in the band!” he insists, his face turning red with anger.  “I spoke with Jill a couple days ago; I really need the job.”

Steve's trying to calm himself, he really is. He shouldn't be making a scene in the middle of the street. But he doesn’t like the thought this might be part of some plan by Jill.

“I'm sorry I bolted last night, ok? I… I have issues. A shit ton of them,” Ian says with a self deprecating laugh.

It’s the laugh that catches Steve’s attention. He's gotta admit that so far everything from Ian has felt genuine and sincere, including his refusal to stay the night before and his apology now.

Ian drops down to sit on the steps in front of a house.  Steve shifts to tower over him, not giving an inch. Yet.

“I… look, I… I lost most of my family not that long ago,” Ian says quietly, his head resting in his hands.   “I lost my wife… and my daughter… I thought I was ready to move on. To have some fun…” 

Steve can’t pinpoint it but it feels like there's something wrong with the story. There's some truth to it: he’s lost someone.  Steve can feel it, he can still see it in Ian’s eyes, like he had the night before. 

“I guess I wasn't.”  Ian laughs nervously.  “I'm really sorry though. You're really hot and you seem like you'd be fun in bed. I just don't think I'm much fun to be around right now.”

Steve raises one eyebrow as he considers what Ian’s said: he’s not in his good books just yet.  But he can give him the benefit of the doubt. After all… it was shitty, and it came out of the left field, but Ian had a right to change his mind about sex.

<You really can talk for both of us, can't you?>

Ian watches his hands then huffs.  “You think I talk too much? I get that a lot.”

<I’m sorry>  Steve signs after they've been in silence for a while. He wants to say more, to say he’s sorry about this family, that he’s sorry that he’s having such a tough time.  But he’s pretty sure that Ian won’t be able to understand him. He gives a understanding smile instead. 

“Hey, do we still have a roadie?” Kono asks from the entrance of the restaurant.  It kills the moment for both of them. 

<Wasn't gonna kill him> Steve signs with a laugh <... much>

“Well, get inside then,” Kono says, opening the door for both of them.  “Everyone's hungry.” 

Steve stops Ian as gets up to follow Kono. He needs to make this clear so takes out his phone and types in his notepad:  _ To be continued _ .  Ian gives him a short nod when Steve shows it to him.  It reassures Steve that they are thinking the same things.   

They all order and soon everyone’s talking over each other at the table. It’s not long before Steve is trying not to laugh because Ian already looks like he’s about to crack and ask someone to translate what Steve’s saying.. The frown on his face makes it obvious that asking for help is something that’s pissing him off; it’s hilarious. The guy is just way too easy to rile up.

“So, you’re all from Hawaii then?” Ian asks.

<Born and raised there> Steve answers quickly, before anyone else can.

Ian looks at him, then looks at everyone else expecting an answer. Steve laughs, he should be offended, but he’s having the time of his life.

“Some of us are family,” Chin answers, pointing at Kono and himself. “Cousins.”

“And you?” Ian asks Jill.

“No, I know Deb, Steve’s aunt. She sent me one of their demos and I went to Hawaii to ask them to play.” Jill says with a smile and Steve smirks. Jill always makes a good first impression, she is so polite.  But it wasn’t until you saw her chewing someone out because of a breach in contract that you actually got to know her. 

“What about you?” Kono asks Ian. 

Before Ian can reply their food arrives.  They all start eating but Steve keeps one eye on Ian, wondering about what his deal is.  So he is paying attention when Ian winces and looks away. 

It’s been a while since he was in Naval Intelligence, but Steve still knows how to read people, Ian had been preparing to lie.

Eventually Kono turns back to Ian, who is taking a bite of his burger. “So? What about you? Where’re you from, what about your family?”

“I’m from New York, but I don’t really have a family, you know?” Ian says, shrugging.  “We don’t talk anymore.” 

Everyone else at the table seems to understand it’s a sore subject for him and drop it for lighter subjects.  Steve eats his food and thinks about what Ian’s already told him about his family and starts to try and put the information together. Maybe he's on the run from the mob? Or he’s in some other type of trouble?  It takes a special kind of person to want to join a band tour on the road.

Steve has a lot of questions of his own that need asking, to see how Ian reacts, to see if he gives anything away.  Not for the first time he is frustrated that someone does not know ASL. Steve frowns at his fries. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Ian and the way he’s staring out of the window when he’s not being asked something.

Steve sighs, takes his phone from his jacket pocket and scrolls down through his contacts. He fishes for a napkin and pen from Jill’s purse, who looks at him as if he’s crazy. Then he writes down Cath’s contact number and scribbles a short note.  He passes the napkin to Ian with a glare: 

_ ‘You need to learn ASL. Not a suggestion. Call Cath and she’ll get you in contact with someone who can do it online while we’re on the road.’ _

“Getting tired of me already?” Ian asks with a smirk when he reads the note.

<You wish> Steve signs, rolling his eyes and adding his fakest smile. 

Ian flips him off, but he still folds the napkin and puts it in his pocket. 

Steve just grins. 


	4. Chapter 3: Some kind of night into your darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a literal earthqueake when I was editing this chapter. wth.

I want to take a breath that's true  
I look to you and I see nothing   
I look to you to see the truth

  
Read More: [ Fade into you - Mazzy Star ](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/mazzystar/fadeintoyou.html)

 

 

They put Ian to work as soon as they get back to the studio. The local roadies are there already, moving the big equipment easily enough, but Steve worries about their instruments, as always.

“This is your new job,” Jill says to Ian. It takes Steve a moment to notice she’s pointing at him. “Work with him so that he stops making that face every time we have to work with local roadies. Which is always.”

“So that's it? I'm your babysitter so you don't have aneurysm face?” Ian jokes.

Steve frowns. He doesn't have aneurysm face.

He signs so to Jill who just laughs. “You kind of do, buddy.”

“I just need to make sure the roadies work to Steve’s high standards then?” Ian asks when Jill stops laughing.

“That’s about it, yes. There's moving everything into the theater later on and storing on the bus after the show. We all pitch in so it shouldn't take long. Oh, and you’re responsible for security during the show, as we talked about earlier. I'm the tour manager so I handle tour bookings and advance planning at venues but I might need some help now and them with specific stuff. We’ll talk about it more in depth when we get everything installed.”

Steve raises his eyebrows at Jill’s quick summary.  He’s got instructions - _lots of_ instructions.  When he starts signing Jill rolls her eyes but translates anyway, waving her hand to ask him to slow down.

At least Ian seems to get the hang of what’s expected quickly enough.  Steve’s impressed by the questions he asks about the correct order to load and store the equipment, things that the movers hadn't even tried to figure out before piling everything on top of everything (ok, maybe they already knew their stuff but Steve knew he had issues with control and a little asking wouldn't go amiss).

Jill seems smug about her choice of roadie, if bored out of her mind and ready to bolt at moments notice. Steve takes pity on her, waving her away as soon as she’s finished translating for him.  But it’s another reminder that he needs Ian to get more knowledge on ASL so they can actually talk without people translating for him. He’s got more questions he wants to ask - and they’re not just about loading the equipment.

After a while he stops trying to control how things are going and sits back to watch. Ian good at talking to people, with a quick wit and smile that makes him approachable. To Steve, with what little information he knows about Ian, it looks as fake as that story he had been told earlier. Ian’s being accepted easily by the other roadies, but it’s leaving Steve feeling weird.

It’s a great view anyway, so he carries on watching as he loads Chin’s drum set. Jill reappears to talk to him about the venue and give him a schedule for the afternoon before giving one for Ian too.

“We're leaving in twenty, so make some final rounds, make sure everything's on the bus or I'll have your head!” Jill bellows to the crew.

Things get busy after that. Steve can see Ian moving people around, ordering them to double-check everything, making sure people lift probably with their knees bent and facilitating what used to be so hard for Steve to control, without being able to talk.

<You're a good executive officer> he signs to Ian when everything’s loaded and the truck has driven off.

Ian studies him, raises one eyebrow.  “I’m guessing I did okay. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea, huh?” he says with a laugh as he moves away, giving a stinky eye in Steve’s direction.

<Remember to call Cath> he signs, then pretends to call someone on the phone.  He doesn’t wait to see if Ian’s understood him before going inside the rehearsal studio.

 

00000

 

Ian passes him his acoustic guitar in a hurry. He's been running all over for a while but it's been all smooth sailing for Steve, which is a first. He couldn't be happier.

“And for our final song tonight,” Jerry starts after the clapping stops, “we're playing an oldie but goodie, by request of Gina Díaz who wrote to us on twitter.” Someone in the crowd shouts and claps, people around them joining in. Steve does a shaka with a laugh, obviously the girl is in the crowd - good for her!

Steve starts playing softly.  The lights are off on the stage making the music sound whimsical for a while. Kono’s playing the bass softly as she steps up to the mic and Jerry is playing a pandero, smiling at her.

Kono doesn't have a huge belting voice like Jerry does, but she has a mellow, soft timbre.  Whenever she sings solo it raises the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck. Steve likes to cherish these moments, these carefully crafted times when Kono leaves them all speechless.

“... some kind of night into your darkness colors your eyes with what's not there… fade into you… strange you never knew…” Kono sings, holding onto the mic like she wants to cradle it against her chest.

The crowd is mostly silent, watching enraptured as she spins feelings into the music. Steve feels more alive up on stage, enjoying the goosebumps on his arms as he strums his chords.  He smiles to the crowd and winks at a few of them: it’s easier to be on the stage and connect with the audience when he feels this good.

The song ends and applause rumbles around them. Kono is smiling and leaving her bass on the stand.  Before she goes she reminds the audience to tag them in the videos if they put them online, which gets her more excited catcalls and screams.

Ian is helping Max with his keyboard, but sends someone over to Steve to take his guitar.  Steve joins the rest of the band at the front of the stage and they take each other hands, raising them to the ceiling with a laugh.

“Thank you, New York!” Chin says with a laugh, before throwing his drum sticks to the crowd.

Steve is right behind him throwing his picks, as lame and regular as they are.  He signs at them that he hopes to see them again. He doesn’t think that many people understand what he’s saying, although it helps that he signs the same thing in every concert.  To his surprise a couple of people at the front sign back that they love him. He grins at them and blows them a kiss and it’s their turn to scream.

The stage lights turn off in the theater as they leave the stage. The crowd call for an encore but they’re on a tight schedule tonight to get to the next town. The curtains close and the roadies begin to store everything away almost immediately, Ian making sure everything’s up to Steve tough standards.

Jill is at the backstage, phone in hand for them to take a selfie for their Instagram account.

Steve’s not a fan of this, but it’s part of the publicity image they need to create. A few pics here, a couple of seconds of videos there, will go a long way. They have personal accounts that show snapshots of their lives, and a band account that’s filled with actual information and tour dates. He’s thankful they have Jill to take care of this kind of thing, because he doesn't have the patience to do it.

They have to leave by 3 am to be on time for the next venue's load in… and to try and get any kind of sleep on the bus.  The next city is a one night only show and getting a hotel room for a few hours was ridiculously expensive, so sleeping on the bus it was.

There’s always a bit of press after the show, interviews for the radio and newspapers, so they lose more time there.  It’s always the same questions, it doesn’t matter where they are. Steve answers, keeps smiling but he’d rather be storing his stuff and helping the crew load the bus.

“Hey, the acoustic goes with you in the bus, right?” Steve hears Ian ask him. He nods and moves toward him, leaving the rest of the band talking to some fans.

“You looked like you needed saving,” Ian says with a cheeky grin, and Steve just laughs.

<How’d you know?> he asks, shrugging to illustrate his question.

“You had a face,” Ian answers with a shrug of his own.

<I had a face? What kind of answer is that? I don't have a face> he signs, irked.

“Of course you have a face, you have a face right now,” Ian teases, passing Steve some cables to roll.

<And you're an expert on my face now?> Steve asks, juggling the end of the cable so he can talk.

“Well… I've seen a few by now.”

Steve wants to make a crass joke, but he realizes it's not needed because Ian’s face is fire engine red from embarrassment. So he starts rolling the cables he’s been given, effectively silencing himself.

It's a few hours work but everyone starts helping out after the fans and press are gone and it's easier from then on.

By 2 am they’re using the bathroom for the last time, saying goodbye to the guys from the theater and the local crew, smoking the last smokes, and getting ready to head on the road again. Everyone’s asleep on their feet and taking it in turns to yawn.

Lou, their driver, is waiting for them out back with the bus.

“We're ahead of schedule? That's a first McGarrett.” Lou teases.

Steve doesn't even try to answer beyond shrugging and laughing. Lou doesn't understand ASL beyond a few letters and gestures. He claims there's no need to learn when Steve shouldn't even talking to the driver when he’s working so what’d be the point - and he's not exactly wrong so Steve doesn't sweat it. Lou is way more bothered by not being able to understand what Steve is saying about him than Steve is bothered by not being able to talk to him. It's amusing.

Steve gets on the bus and goes straight to his bunk. Most nights he doesn’t get much sleep, even when he’s as beat as he is now. Exhaustion is a double edged sword, giving him the chance to sleep soundly with no nightmares, or bringing up nightmares that have him trembling into the early hours of the morning.

Maybe tonight he’ll be lucky and get some sleep.

 

00000

 

It’s raining.

There’s a light on in his Dad’s study. Voices carry to Steve who’s on the lanai, looking in. It sounds like a fight, like it sounded in Afghanistan when there was information to be extracted and people who resisted.

He knows, in some place in his mind, that he didn't actually experience this, that he was thousands of miles away from this scene while it was happening.  He knows that he was elsewhere with a gun to his head, a boot to his throat and there was nothing he could do to stop the bullet that killed his Dad.

That knowledge doesn’t make his mind any less active, doesn’t mean he can’t imagine what it must have been like. His mind can fill the in the blanks, turn what he doesn’t know into nightmare images, so he that he doubts what is real. His brain can conjure up the shadows in his Dad’s eyes, and the flash of victory in Victor’s eyes when he pulls the trigger.  Steve can feel the despair and the need for vengeance in the air. He can hear his father taking a breath before telling him he loves him, and picture the way he must have looked knowing he was not going to get out of their alive.

He can feel the bullet that killed his father like he’s the one being shot.

Steve wakes up.

It’s dark. He can tell he’s trapped on every side. There’re walls to one side and in front and the air is stale. Steve takes a deep breath and tries to regain his bearings. He’s not in a war zone, he’s not dead… he’s…he’s in motion? Something’s moving… there’s noise and… a car horn honking.

He’s on the tour bus.

Steve breathes out and breathes in again, trying to calm his heart.

Bus bunk beds are one of the best and worst inventions known to man, Steve thinks, breathing in again. On one hand it beats sleeping on a bus seat, on the other hand… waking up from a nightmare in a space that could pass for a coffin is terrifying to say the least.

Steve gets out of his bunk and opens the door to the kitchen area, intending to get a coffee and maybe catch a movie or anything that can help him forget what’s on his mind.

Instead he finds Ian watching ASL learning videos on a smartphone and copying what he sees in a small makeup mirror that Steve suspects he’s borrowed from Jill. It’s just basic signs, but Steve feels his heart skip with emotion.  It says a lot about the kind of guy Ian is that he’s making this effort to understand what he’s saying.

Not many people have gone to that trouble for him.

Steve knocks on the closest surface to get Ian’s attention.  <You’re doing it wrong>.

Ian jumps in his seat.  “What is wrong with you? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” He looks tired as hell as well.

<Pot, kettle, black> Steve signs back slowly, spelling out the words.  If Ian’s making an effort to learn the least he can do is help him.

“You said something about black… and I have no idea about the rest.”  Ian’s smiling but Steve can see how frustrated he is.

Steve pulls out his phone and writes on the notepad.  "Pot, kettle, black. Shouldn’t you be asleep too?"

“I’m good,” Ian says with a shrug then goes back to his videos and mirror.

Steve takes the hint - Ian does not want company.  He turns on the TV on a very low setting as to avoid waking his band mates. There's a war movie on.  Steve quickly changes it to something less gritty, something that won’t trigger his nightmares again. Cartoons it is.

His eyes stray to Ian from time to time.  Ian’s still copying the motions in a mirror; he’s surprisingly good for someone with little experience.  He's apparently studying the letters and spelling, if the way he's going through the alphabet is any indication.

"Let me test you," Steve writes in his notepad, moving to sit opposite Ian before he can say no.

“I've only been learning this for an hour and you already want to crush my ego?” Ian snorts.

Steve shrugs and begins. <S-p-e-l-l-y-o-u-r-n-a-m-e>.

It takes Ian awhile to realize what’s being said, but when he does he starts spelling back, a few mistakes here and there, but nothing major.  <I-a-n-w-i-l-r> “Wait, no, that’s wrong.” <s-o-n>.

<W-h-y-a-r-e-y-o-u-a-w-a-k-e?>

<I-n-s-o-m-n-i-a>

Steve looks at Ian in a new light:  he understands only too well how tiring that is.  <J-u-s-t-s-l-e-e-p-l-e-s-s-n-e-s-s?> he asks.

<M-o-s-r>  “Wait… what was it…” <g-t-t-t-l-y> Ian finishes with a triumphant smile when he finally remembers how to spell the t. <y-o-u?>

Steve pauses before answering.  It feels like a night for telling the truth. <N-i-g-h-t-m-a-r-e-s>

Ian nods, his face thoughtful.  <S-u-c-k-s>

<You’re getting better at this> Steve signs, foregoing the spelling.

“And there you go, breaking the spell,” Ian says, annoyed.

Steve shrugs, suddenly feeling guilty.  <Spelling only gets you so far> he answers honestly.

“I might need to get some more classes under my belt to understand that,” Ian grumbles.  

Steve taps the table between them and laughs a little, leaving his seat to go back to the couch and the tv.

Maybe it’s because he doesn’t feel like he’s lying in a coffin anymore, or it’s the light from the TV, or maybe it’s the soothing sound of Ian’s breathing but whatever it is, he falls asleep easily.

This time he doesn’t dream.

There're no rain clouds on the horizon.


	5. Chapter 4: Just don’t lie to me

I'm not calling you a liar, just don't lie to me

I'm not calling you a thief, just don't steal from me

I'm not calling you a ghost, just stop haunting me

 

Read more: [ I’m not calling you a liar - Florence + The Machines ](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/florencethemachine/imnotcallingyoualiar.html)

  
  
  
  


They get to Philadelphia around 4am, courtesy of Lou driving like a granny and his penchant of avoiding highways.

The crew gets dropped at a Holiday Inn while Lou drives the bus to the venue. There's still some time for them to catch a little sleep and a shower before the press round in the afternoon.

They're huddling around their bags, waiting in the foyer for Jill to get the keys.

“Everyone's in the same pairs as last time, but Ian you'll have to share with Steve,” Jill tells them, passing around the keys around. “Don't think I didn't notice that _thing_ between you two guys.”

<What?> Steve signs, trying to understand how could she have _known_.

“You're both insomniacs, aren't you? No point in having you guys waking someone else up when you get up in the middle of the night,” Jill says, but she eyes Steve like she's trying to tell him she knows it's not the only thing.

Jill misses nothing.

Ian shrugs as if he doesn't care, though Steve notices the way the tips of his ears have gone red.

But they could pull it off, Steve was sure of it. After all, the time that they'd spend in the actual room was going to be minimal, and most of it would be while they were asleep. He doubted there'd be much time for getting awkward around each other.

They were going to get along just fine.

Jill had managed to get most of their rooms on the same floor, so they said goodbye in the elevator to Max and Jerry who were one floor above them. They were the most punctual in the group so Jill worried about them the least. Everyone else was near her just in case anything happened.

Steve gets into his room and throws his bag onto the bed nearest to the door, and immediately throws himself behind it and turns around to stare at the ceiling. He is beat.

Ian is silent as he comes into the room behind him. Moving to the other bed he sits on it, looking around the room. He’s quiet but Steve can see the wheels and words spinning around his head.

He snaps his fingers to get his attention. <Try to sleep> he signs.

“Easy for you to say,” Ian grumbles.

The irony in those words isn’t lost on Steve.

Steve rolls his eyes and looks in his pants for his phone, so he can type Ian a message. "It’s going to be a long day, you’ll need as much rest as you can get."

“I know, Mom,” Ian snaps, after reading the message. T

The man was irascible, Steve decided. It wasn’t surprising considering the lack of sleep and the awkward situation they’d thrown into. For Steve’s part, the air was clear, there wasn’t much to talk about. Sure, Steve wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t attracted to Ian, but unless the man wanted something more Steve would keep his wants and desires in check.  There was no need to make him uncomfortable.

It wasn't easy, but he was a SEAL so he should be able to contain himself. Right?

Ian takes a deep breath and takes off his t-shirt. Steve turns to look at the ceiling to avoid looking directly as he gets changed. Although maybe he does peek from the corner of his eye from time to time, letting himself remember how those muscles felt under his hands and the warmth in that soft skin…

_Right… not thinking about it. Right._

Steve stands up and goes to the bathroom with a change of clothes. He should do as he’d suggested and try to get some sleep too. He could fix the dark circles under his eyes if he didn't get enough sleep but there wasn't any kind of makeup to fix the mood he'd be in if he didn't sleep enough.

So he goes through his business, changes into an old t-shirt he uses as pajamas, brushes his teeth and checks his throat for bruises that haven't been there in years, since Victor Hesse nearly killed him with a boot to his neck. He can’t stop himself though: now it’s a routine to check and convince himself before he goes to sleep that they aren't there anymore.

“Hey, I need to use the bathroom,” Ian yells from the other side of the door.

Steve lets Ian inside and notices instantly that he’s changed into sleeping pants but nothing else. He leaves, feeling uncomfortable when he realises he's been staring for too long.

He fails to see Ian staring just as much.

When Ian gets back to the bedroom Steve's already asleep.

  
  


00000

  
  
  


When Steve woke up again it was to the strange realization that he was well rested and couldn't remember his last nightmare. It was so incredible that it took a while for him to realize he was alone in the room, Ian long gone judging by the coldness of his sheets.

They were to meet with the reporter at little past noon, so Steve didn't think too much about it beyond a fleeting thought about how he'd have liked to watch Ian get dressed.

He gets ready thinking about cameras and pictures, about the way his hair looks and hoping that whatever is in his duffel bag and suitcase looks fancy enough for promo pics. He looks at himself in the mirror, and check himself out until he think he’s ready. ‘Perfect’ he thinks to himself.

The band meets in the foyer, and Jill walks with them to the radio station where the interview is taking place. After greeting everyone and taking pictures with everyone and their dog, the interview finally begins.

“All the band members are from Hawaii, right?” the reporter asks, all smiles. “But how did the band come together to begin with?”

“Ah… well, I guess that was me,” Chin says, zen as always. “Steve's father was my training officer, back when I was a cop, so I knew him since he was just a kid, and Kono is my cousin. Jerry and I used to be classmates, and then Jerry brought Max in.”

“And you guys had different careers before you came together as a band. Do you miss what you did before?”

“I was on the pro surfer circuit, so I do sometimes,” Kono answers truthfully, “but I still can do it in my free time. Just not professionally.”

<I was in the Navy.  I miss the thrill of it sometimes, and maybe even the routine> Steve signs. They don't have an interpreter this time so Chin is translating for him. He’s flawless, interpreting with the ease of someone who's been doing it for years. <But I don't miss being constantly in danger. I'm not sure I could go back to that. I've gone soft> he jokes, patting his stomach.

He's not actually soft by any means, but he's a long way from the washboard abs he used to have while he was serving.  He's mostly alright with it, surprisingly enough. It's been liberating not have to be in top shape to be able to fight for his life.

“Oh, no. I think your fans will agree with me that you haven't,” the reporter says, fanning himself. Steve just laughs and winks at him.

“If I may interrupt you to answer your question, I do miss being able to fully exercise my knowledge in my career,” Max answers, completely destroying whatever moment the reporter might have been trying to create. “The medical field is so completely different to what I do here, there's little to remind myself of what I used to do.”

“And you, Jerry?” the reporter asks, getting back on track after Max's answer.

“Who says I stopped doing what I did before? I'm just gonna say that, if anything, being able to tour and travel this much has helped a lot in my research,” Jerry answers, completely serious.

“My intern does follow all your blog posts,” the reporter says, looking at a girl in a long sweater who giggles and waves cutely at Jerry, who goes a perfect tomato red at the interaction.  

It's sweet.  Steve smiles knowingly at Chin. Jerry’s had a lot of bad luck in love but he always has the cute fans who are really into conspiracies.

“Getting back on track, you've been on tour for about a month now, promoting your new album ‘Uhane hele’.” You just played two sold out dates in New York. I imagine you're getting tired of each other by now?”

“Not really,” Kono answers with a dimpled smile. “I love these guys, they're pretty much my family. And you get used to each other’s habits after a while.”

“I do miss having more space for sleeping,” Jerry adds, jokingly.

“Living on the bus for so long has been trying sometimes, but not that terrible,” Chin agrees with a smile. “We did live together a lot when we were back home.”

The reporter nods, checking his notes.  “And going back to your album, what's your favorite song?”

<Definitely ‘Uhane hele’> Steve answers. <It took a while to get the feeling of a wandering soul right, the detachment with your own self… I think we did an amazing job with that one>

“I like ‘lele wale’,”  Kono answers with a laugh.

“Oh, of course you like that one!” Chin jokes. Lele wale is a song with a fast beat, perfect for dancing or moving around on stage. Kono’s claimed the song as her own since Steve wrote the first few chords.

“Hey, I keep what's given to me!” Kono laughs, winking at Steve.

Steve winks back.

The interview continues but Steve’s mind is elsewhere, already preparing for the rest of the day.

  
  


00000

  
  


Steve's a couple of blocks from his hotel when he sees him: Ian is in an alley, talking to some real dodgy looking guy who’s acting spooked. Steve didn't think that Ian would actually know people in the city (a mistake, he realizes, as he doesn't know much about Ian to begin with), and the idea that he knows this strange guy doesn't sit well with him, even if it would explain things about his behaviour, his nervousness.

He hadn't pinged Ian as an addict, but then again he's barely known him 48 hours.

He doesn't mean to spy on him, except that he totally does. All kind of things could mess with their band’s reputation - and having a drug addict on the team could make one hell of a mess of their tour.

There's something fishy going on and as much as Steve wishes his instincts would take a vacation sometimes, he knows he should listen to them. So instead of carrying on walking he hides behind some trash cans and listens.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh reaches him.  He can hear that someone is being beat down and it crosses his mind that Ian might need his help.  Carefully he creeps out of his hiding place: there’s no way he's leaving the man alone to be beaten up.

Only, he’s totally misunderstood the situation. Ian's not the one being beaten.

The man in the floor isn't unconscious but is a close thing. Ian isn't beating him as much as he's slowly torturing the guy.

_What the hell?_

“You tell Gutierrez I won't stand for this shit,” Ian’s telling the guy on the ground. “He wants something out of me he comes at me with a decent business plan. I'm not moving shit unless he's serious about it.” The guy on the floor is holding his nose like it's broken and his side like he wants to protect it. “If he's not serious then I guess I'll just have to go over his head.”

“He's not gonna be happy,” says the guy, with a wet voice.

“You think I care? You're getting this backwards,” Ian says crouching down to his level. “It's you guys who should be trying to keep me happy. Not the other way around. Now beat it.”

The guy on the floor tries to get up, obviously wary of Ian who looks ready to pounce again. As he finally scrambles away Steve stays in his hiding place, watching.  He wonders what he should do, whether to confront Ian about whatever shady business he's running or let it go for now until he knows more. He doesn't want to go blind into this.

Ian’s searching through the boxes and garbage for something. Eventually he crouches next to a cardboard box, looks into it and then gets back up with something in his hand. He fiddles with it until noise comes out of it. A recorder, Steve guesses.  He’s starting to be more curious than pissed about this whole thing.

“Fuck!” Ian exclaims, hitting the wall with his hand.   “I shouldn't have punched him.”

Steve peeks again and sees Ian fiddling with a phone that's different to the one that Steve saw him using the other night. A burner phone, he wonders, his curiosity growing.

“Hey, Gloria told me to call you,” Ian is muttering to the phone. He's trying to get presentable as he’s talking, straightening his collar and running his hand through his hair.  “Aunt Mabel is out of town and sent one of her daughters instead. Yeah… I wasn't impressed either, she doesn't know shit.”

Steve wants to laugh out loud.  It’s so obviously a code it's almost like Ian wanted him to hear.  Ian is leaving the alleyway, passing right by where Steve is hidden in the shadows. He wishes he could melt into the background more effectively, but there's only so much cardboard and trash can do to hide him.

“I'll be staying here another night, if Aunt Mabel doesn't come I'll go check on her,” Ian’s saying as he passes.  Steve thinks he’s done it, that he’s successfully hidden from Ian. Then suddenly he stops and Steve holds his breath. “Hey, listen, I’ll call you later. There’s someone at the door.”

Turning, Ian stares right at Steve’s hiding place.  He sighs. “I can see you hiding in there, you putz.  Get out of there so we can actually talk this out.”

Steve curses in his mind. He gets out from behind the cardboard and trash and stands in front of Ian.

Ian rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “What the hell did you--”

Steve grabs him by the wrist and walks him back in the direction of their hotel. It’s not long before Ian manages to get himself free.  Glaring at Steve he turns his back and then stomps ahead, his head down.

This is the third time they’ve walked into a hotel room together, and so far Steve isn’t impressed with their track record. The first time was good, the rest have been getting steadily worse.

<You have 5 mins> he signs.

Ian starts, from where he’s leaning against the wall near the door. He’s got his hands in his pockets, his attitude is closed.  “I don’t know what you said right now or what you saw earlier so I actually don’t know where to start.”

Steve grabs his pad and starts writing his questions.  "Are you a dealer? Are you trafficking drugs? Was that why you needed us? And that on the phone was code, why are you speaking in code with someone. Who are you?"

Ian studies the pad, frowning.  “I’m Ian Wilson, you know that already. And no, I’m not trafficking anything, not really.”

And there it is again " the tone. The man in front of him is lying and maybe Steve doesn’t know him enough to call him out on it, but he knows Ian’s lying and that shit’s not going to fly.

"You’re lying," Steve types and shows it to Ian, then goes back to typing again. "I don’t know what you’re lying about but you are. And it’s pissing me off. So start talking."

“Look, I can’t tell you everything, ok?” Ian shoots back, clearly agitated.  His arms are waving from side to side. “I shouldn’t even be telling you anything. I’m already seriously compromised by you finding me like that.”

Steve inspects the man in front of him again. Compromised was such a curious word to use.  Maybe his initial appraisal back in New York wasn’t wrong after all. This man in front of him, with his tight shirt and bloody knuckles, might be on the side of the good guys, not the bad guys, after all.

“The reason I’m willing to be here, talking about this instead of running from the whole situation is because I can’t lose this position, and for that I’m willing to try and… talk my ass off to explain whatever you think I was doing.”

"I think you’re law enforcement and you’re undercover. You said ‘compromised’.  Who says that in everyday language," Steve types, grimacing. Having to interrupt a conversation to type is the worst.

“Undercover? Really?” Ian laughs, crossing the room to take a seat on his bed. “I told you, I can’t say much about what’s happening. I just can promise you that I’m not actually trafficking drugs. Jill knows the deal and I promised her I wouldn’t tarnish the band’s reputation.”

Steve pauses, surprised.  "Jill knows?"

“Yeah, she does. I barely know her but already I know better than to try and hide stuff from her.”

That changes everything. Steve might not trust this guy yet, because he’s been lying since Steve offered him that drink. And he didn’t rise to the bait about being law enforcement. But he does trust Jill. And if she knows what’s happening and doesn’t have a problem with it he can give Ian the benefit of the doubt.

"You’ll have to promise the same to me," he types. "You won’t get caught up in anything that might hurt us."

“Sure, buddy,” Ian smiles, tiredly. “I already promised your manager and she’s way scarier. You’ve got nothing to be worried about.”

"I’m gonna be watching you. One foot out of line and I’ll know it," he warns.

“You do that, babe. You do that.”


	6. Chapter 5: Lost myself

Ouch, I have lost myself again

Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found

Yeah, I think that I might break

Lost myself again and I feel unsafe

 

Read more: [ Breathe me - Sia ](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/sia/breatheme.html)

  
  


 

The moment Grace put a foot on the island she loved it. The sun was shining and there was a salty breeze in the air that promised beaches and sand and the possibility of running around just for fun.

It finally felt like there was some warmth in her after the awful days she’s had since her Mom told her about Danno. She still didn’t really believe it, so she was trying not to think about it too much.

That didn’t mean she was taking it well: Mom always told her that. She was irritable, and she didn’t want to do anything at all. She’d rather stay in bed than to go out. She had been listening to music a lot, and she had read about every book she had with her. She didn’t want to talk about Danno - and her Mom didn’t get that she specifically didn’t want to talk about Danno with her.

It felt like everything that happened to Danno was their fault. Her Mom’s because she decided to move from New Jersey without waiting for him, and Grace’s because she had been asking Danno to hurry up, to follow them to Nevada. Because she missed him and it felt like her family was breaking.

Grace had been sure the call about Danno was a lie, but her Mom was crying so hard it had to be true. There wasn’t much time for the news to sink in before her Mom was calling someone, and before midnight they had everything packed again (not that Grace had managed to get much stuff from out of the boxes in the short time they were in Nevada).

By 3 am she was falling asleep, cuddled up against her Mom, in a car that was going to take them to a ‘secure location’. What was that?, Grace had no idea, but they stayed in that apartment for about 3 days before leaving again.

Grace had cried for hours, because how was Danno ever going to find them if they were gone like that? He wouldn’t know where they were.

It took hours for her to finally believe her Mom that Danno wasn’t going to find them anymore, because Danno wasn’t there. Because Danno was dead.

She didn’t want to talk about it.

She can still remember the man in the cemetery, he dark hair and dark glasses.  She’d recognized her Danno, those arms that hugged her all the time, she’d know them anywhere.  Maybe everyone else was confused because they didn’t know her Dad had dark hair now. And she had heard him talking about a new identity, so maybe this was some kind of conspiracy like Trish back in Nevada said about aliens and the military.

So she keeps quiet, and she reads.

And if she hears her Mom talking to that Myriam lady about a child psychologist… well… that’s something she’ll think about when the time comes.

For now she’s gonna enjoy not feeling cold for a while.

  
  


00000

  
  


Her new house has a pool. It seems silly because they live on an island now and there were beaches everywhere but the guy who was watching over them said it wasn’t safe to be in crowded places. Whatever that meant.

They were staying with a man that Myriam knew.  He told her Mom that he was trained in several martial arts and knew how to shoot a gun, and that his name was Stan Edwards. They were to pose as their family. They told her it was like acting, that she should call him Dad… but he wasn’t her Dad. It made no sense.

“How about calling me step-Stan, then?” the man had suggested. Grace just shrugged. At least it wasn’t ‘Dad’.

So Grace was staying in a huge house now, that wasn’t theirs and wasn’t his, and she was starting school today as Grace Edwards. She didn’t like it one bit. And her Mom was supposed to be called Ruth now, Ruth Edwards.

It felt like she was going to be lost to her Dad forever. There was no way for him to find Grace. Her name wasn’t her name anymore, neither was her Mom’s. She didn’t live in the same place, or where he knew he could find her.

She was miles away from him.

It was difficult knowing there was so little connecting her to him now.

“Remember what we talked about,” her Mom was saying from the driver’s side of the car. “You answer only to Grace Edwards, and if someone calls you Williams you tell us straight away. It’s for our own safety.”

“I know, Mom,” she answers, rolling her eyes. Everyone told her that at least once a day.

“And you don’t mention your Dad to anyone.  If anyone asks his name is Andrew Peterson, and he lives in Dallas.”

“I know, Mom! You’ve told me, Step-Stan has told me, Myriam told me. I’m gonna be late.”

It’s not that Grace is running away when she gets out of the car, blinking back tears as she runs to the school.  It’s just that she’s tired of being reminded of all the ways her Dad is out of her life now.

She gets to the top of the stairs and immediately there’s a boy in her path.  

“Aloha! You’re new here, right?” he asks with a huge smile.

She kind of hates him on sight.

“Yes.”

“Then you must be Grace Edwards.  Miss Makana had me waiting for you so I can show you around. I’m Tommy.” He offers a hand that Grace shakes warily. He’s way too happy this early in the morning.

Or maybe she’s just not happy enough lately.

The principal is nice, telling her all about the school even if Grace doesn’t pay much attention. She gets her schedule and goes back to the hallway, where Tommy is waiting for her.

He grabs her schedule from her hands and reads it.  They’re going to be in the same class, he tells her. And so they go.

Tommy is fine, if a bit clingy. He doesn’t leave her alone all day, and introduces her to all his friends, which is a drastic difference to Nevada. By her first recess she has the names and numbers of all of Tommy’s friends and an invitation to a birthday party next week.

At lunchtime there’s a couple of girls, Nani and Tania, who are giggling over something on their phone, and are quick to make everyone join them.

It’s an interview on YouTube. There’s a tall man moving his hands around, and someone’s talking to him. It looks like one of those signing people she’s seen sometimes on tv. The guy pats his tummy and winks at the reporter.  The group around Grace giggle and sigh wistfully, their eyes fixed to the screen.

“Who are they?” she asks Tommy as the camera pans to reveal more people.

“You don’t know them? They’re the best band ever. They’re kamaina, you know?”

Grace doesn’t know. She barely knows the place, or the words, or the language; but the girls show her a few songs on YouTube, with video clips that showcase the beach and the forest, and maybe Grace falls a bit in love with the music and the landscape…

“What did you say they were called?”

“Oh, they’re ‘The Five-0’s’.” Tania answers for him, looking at Grace like she wants to tell her everything. “It’s for Hawaii being the 50th state. Their songs are super good, and they always post something before and after a show.”

“I have a friend who used to live near Kono. Said she taught her how to surf before going on tour,” Nani says. “I’m not sure I believe it, but it’s such a Kono thing to do, you know?”

“I once saw Steve in Liliha. He was signing like crazy to this lady in camo,” Tommy tells Pika, who looks amused to be talking about this for the hundredth time. “I tried to follow what he said to see if I could translate later at home, but it was waaaay too fast.”

“I don’t know how everyone keeps up with that,” Nani agrees.

“Signing? Is he deaf?” Grace asks, now a little interested. “How do you play in a band if you’re deaf?”

Tommy shakes his head.  “Not deaf. Mute.”

“I didn’t know people could be one or the other,” she says.

“You can’t usually. But McGarrett was a Navy SEAL. I heard he was in a huge explosion and lost his vocal chords,” Tommy adds, wide-eyed and super excited.

“You can’t lose your vocal chords, they control breathing,” Pika laughs. “They taught that in swimming class.”

“I heard it was psychological, like the kids that don’t want to talk when they have some kind of tragedy in their lives,” Tania comments.

“Could be both, right?” Grace suggests, understanding that feeling a lot. She could do with a lot less talking these days.

“Here, give me your phone,” Nani says, making grabby hands at her.  Grace passes her phone unlocked and watches Nani swipe through to her music app. “I’m setting you up with my video playlist. I have the best songs by them, so you can listen to it later and tell me if you like them.”

Grace looks at the playlist. It’s not that long, just seven songs. She doesn’t know if she is that interested, but it wouldn’t take long to listen to them.

 

 

00000

  


 

Later that day Grace is alone at home apart from someone who was just like Stan but was working as a maid.  Putting down her book she looked around. She was bored and needed something new to do. Maybe a chance to go to the beach, or get some new books to read, or see some dolphins.

Or to listen to that band’s music.

She digs out her phone from between her bed sheets, and sweeps her screen until she finds the video playlist. She chooses one that’s in the middle, not the first most listened-to one, to get a feel of what the band sounds like when they weren’t playing their most popular tunes.

The song is called ‘Uhane Hele’.  It starts with light guitar, that suddenly goes crazy, until a sweet voice starts to sing. There’s a piano in the background and then another voice that tunes in to harmonize, and Grace can’t really hear a thing because she’s crying.

For the first time in what feels like weeks she’s crying, and it hurts so bad.

She wants to call for her mom, or her Danno, or someone, anyone…but she fears she’s gonna open her mouth and she’s going to start sobbing and won’t be able to stop. So she keeps her mouth shut and lets the tears flow.

She can deal with tears.

She can deal with the pain and the hurt and the tears.

What she can’t deal with is her mom trying to convince her again that her Danno is dead, or the pitying looks of people who think she hasn’t been able to deal with her father’s death.

Danno is _not_ dead.  He’s just…alone, and waiting for her…and she’s completely lost to him. He’s never going to find her.

The next video plays on its own, and so does the next one and the next, until a young voice in the video distracts Grace enough to stop her tears. It's a girl who is talking - the singing has just stopped. Her hair’s sticking to her forehead and she is wearing a huge smile as she calls the rest of the band members over to her. They all look happy and tired, and they're saying something but Grace can't hear them because in the background, rolling some cables, is a dark haired man, calling one of the band members over to help.

He's there.

 _Danno’s_ there.

Looking tired but alive.

If she cries now it's not because she's never going to see him again. It's because she misses him, but he's alright. He’s _alright._

And he'll find her.

She knows it.


	7. Chapter 6: That which we call rose

Your fake name is not for everyone

It's good enough for me

Forgotten by the garden and your phone is ringing

 

Read More: [ Your fake name is good enough for me - Iron & Wine ](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/ironwine/yourfakenameisgoodenoughforme.html)

  
  
  
  


During the sound check Steve had looked around and thought ‘This theater is really awesome’ but now, in the middle of a show, the place looks amazing. All those hands and faces in front of him, it’s a bit like being in front of his classmates when he was young but without the crushing anxiety. 

He’s come a long way since then, he realizes.  His therapist would be pleased.

He’s been on the look out for Ian the whole time. Just like before the last show, Ian has been running around the stage, dark hair plastered to his face and neck, making sure instruments are connected and generally being around for everyone’s needs. It’s not that he’s paranoid or that he’s worried that he’ll look round the back of the theater and find Ian making deals in front of everyone.  But he’s learnt to be on the look out when something looks shady. And Ian looks shady as fuck, hot, but shady, and wasn’t that a deadly combination?

The concert passes, with Steve in a daze. He doesn’t think he’s made many mistakes, but he knows it’s gonna gain him a few stink eyes and an “Are you ok?” from Jill.

Still, having a talk with Jill sounds like a good idea. After all, if Ian says she knows what’s happening, she should be able to confirm it, right?

He has to wait though.  He waits until after the show because they have to meet the press.  And then there are some fans who’ve won a competition on the radio. He waits until everything is loaded out and on its way to the parking garage with Lou.

He waits until all his friends have gone for a few drinks before finding Jill who is talking to the theater administrator. He waits for her too. He’s willing to wait as long as is needed to resolve this.

<Can we talk?> he asks when she's done. 

“In private?” she asks back. Steve nods and she tells him to follow her to a room next to the green room.

“What is it?” she asks, always to the point.

<I need to know what's the deal with Ian> he signs. <I saw him in something kind of shady yesterday and he said you knew about it. So what is it>.

Jill looks like she's thinking about it, which is more than he thought he'd get out of her. When Steve tries to keep signing she puts up a hand to stop him and takes her phone out of her pocket, dialing quickly.

“Hey, where are you?” she asks, then listens to the voice at the other end with rapt attention. “Hey, you shouldn't be there. Aren't you supposed to wait?... don't try to feed me that bull… yeah, no. Address, send it or I'll ping you… hey, don't hang up... fuck.”

She had been sounding wary in the beginning but by the end of the conversation she looks scared. Jill is fiddling with her phone, freaking out the more she looks at it.

<What's going on, Jill?> Steve asks, all attention focused on the task at hand.  He wants to know what is going on,  _ now. _

“I think Ian is going to get himself in trouble,” Jill says, sounding scared.

<What the hell is happening?> Steve asks, pointedly. <This is really worrying>.

She takes a few deep breaths to collect herself and sighs. “Look, I was going to have him explain this to you, because it’s not my story to tell, but we’ll have to wait for him to get back.” Jill looks worried still, but she’s doing something on her phone and that’s making her calmer.

<Jill, what kind of trouble is he in?> Steve is trying to look over her shoulder, and he can see she’s loading a map app and sharing that map to someone else. Steve doesn’t recognise that person’s name.

“He was supposed to talk to someone earlier today, they were going to give him someone else’s name, and it seems it didn’t go well,” Jill says, looking at Steve like she knows he knows that part of the story. “His handler told me they know about this meeting, and that we should just wait, sit tight and wait. If by 3am he’s not back in the hotel we should let them know.”

<Handler? So he is undercover then?>

“Kinda.” Jill shrugs, like it doesn’t matter. Like it’s not someone from their team who’s out there in danger without any of them knowing about it. “It’s a...unique situation, you’ll have to get him to tell you about it.”

Steve starts pacing, frustrated.  <Tell me where he is. Let’s go help him>

“We can’t do that,” Jill explains, placing a hand on his arm. “It’d blow his cover, we can only wait.”

Steve pulls away, angry.  <To hell with his cover>

“Steve! If I’m telling you any of this is because I know you were in the Navy, because I know you were someone who was mission oriented and who could keep calm in a situation like this! If you were to appear in a place like where Ian’s right now it would be all over the news tomorrow. It could destroy the band’s reputation.” Jill’s standing with her hands on her hips and looking angry, disappointed in a way that Steve hoped never to see again. “I’m letting you know because I need you to be rational enough to help if something has gone wrong. I thought you might have been able to compartmentalize. Don’t prove me wrong.”

Steve tells himself to breathe slowly.  He needs to calm down. He knows better than to behave like this.  <What can we actually do?>

Jill sighs, and it’s like the fire goes out of her. “We wait. We go back to your room and we wait for him.”

00000

Waiting has never been Steve’s strongest suit. He’s restless and he’s been pacing his room for what feels like hours now. He isn’t tired, even after the show and the long day he’s had. Jill is lightly dozing on his bed, having succumbed to sleep about half an hour earlier.

There hasn’t been any communication from Ian; no call, no message, not even a missed call. There hasn’t been anything in the news about any kind of trouble so Steve is trying not to worry. If something really bad had happened the news crews would’ve been there by now.

It had been a bit of a emotional roller coaster for Steve for a while, not knowing how Ian was doing.  He didn’t know if he was pissed or not or if he blamed Ian for bringing such danger to the band. He was curious at what ‘unique situation’ had gotten Ian mixed up with music bands and drug dealers.

But mostly…he really wanted to know how much of what he knew about Ian was true.

He is feeling a little smug that he had, indeed, correctly pinged Ian as law enforcement a few days ago but he was still really worried about the way he appeared to be working alone at something that was way over his head.

Steve wondered if the family Ian had ‘lost’ were really dead as he’d implied or if he had to alienate himself from them to maintain his cover.

He thinks about the way Ian had acted when they were together, back when they first met, about his reticence and the way he had talked about his wife. Maybe he was a married man and didn’t want to cheat on his wife because of a mission.

The whole thing was a mess.

Steve picks at his guitar to pass the time. If he was going to be up waiting for someone he didn’t even really know he might as well do something productive with that time.

He has his computer in front of him.  There’s a program for chord writing open as he strums his guitar, and a melody playing in his head that he can’t quite translate into music yet. It’s a nostalgic tune, maybe more suited to a piano and violin, but his acoustic guitar would have to do for now. It reminded him of the sadness in Ian’s eyes when he saw him that first night. The despair in them when he let himself feel something for more than a second.

It was making Steve’s heart clench in his chest and it frustrated him no end that finding the right notes for it was so difficult.

When the lock on his door clicks open he looks over at the entrance in less than a second. It takes him barely a glance to get up but Ian’s already walking through the door. 

Ian sits on his bed.  His face looks fine, except for a scrape here and there, but he was walking like he needed to sleep for a week, just so his body could heal from whatever had happened to him.

It takes Ian a moment to notice Jill sleeping in Steve’s bed. “What is she doing here?”

“She’s been waiting for you all night,” Steve types.

“Fuck. Can you wake her?”

He’s looking at Steve with such a face that Steve wants to go back to writing.  Instead gets up and shakes Jill’s shoulder, trying to rouse her. 

“Steve?” she yawns.

<Ian’s here> he signs when she is finally awake enough to see him.

“You asshole!” Jill exclaims, getting up from the bed and slapping Ian’s shoulder.

“I probably earned that,” Ian laughs softly, rubbing at his shoulder. It’s such an empty sound that Steve wants to scream.   He looks ready to fall asleep, blinking hard to keep his attention on Jill. “I called Gloria, so don’t worry. I already checked in.  I’m assuming you told everything to McGarrett?”

“It wasn’t my story to tell,” Jill answers with a shrug, but there’s a hardness in her voice that has Steve looking at her curiously. “I do think, however, that you should tell him. He was a SEAL, he can help you.”

Ian shakes his head.  “I can’t bring anyone else into this, you know that. You are already an exception to the rule,” he says, with the air of someone who has already had this conversation several times.

“I don’t care. You tell him, Ian, ‘cause I don’t want to find you dead in a ditch.” Jill’s voice is hard, but Steve knows better, he can hear the catch in her voice. By the looks of it so can Ian. “I know you think you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to. Maybe we aren’t a strike force or anything like that… but there’s some fine law enforcement guys in this band.  They’ve got experience.”

“Jill…” Ian does not look convinced about her argument.

<Hey, you dragged this into our laps. The least you could to right now is trust Jill’s judgement of us> Steve signs, relieved that Jill’s there to translate so quickly for him. 

Ian’s shaking his head again.  “Steve… you guys don’t need this in your lives.”

<You idiot, you’re already in our lives>

“Look, Ian… I’m not backing down from this,” Jill says, placing a hand on Ian’s shoulder. “You have to tell at least Steve. I need to know that if something like tonight happens again there is someone else who knows what you might be doing so I can call Gloria.  It’s not a suggestion. I’m gonna leave you guys alone, but you have to tell him what’s going on. Even if you don’t tell him everything, you have to tell him what you’re doing.”

Ian looks at Jill for a few seconds, then he takes a deep breath that seems to burn him all the way to his lungs. “Okay, stop nagging, you win,” he mutters. 

Jill sighs in relief.  She kisses Steve on the cheek as a good night, and knocks on Ian’s head before kissing his temple. She already looks like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She leaves in the midst of yawns and stretches, but when the door closes behind her the silence is the room is stifling.

“How much do I have to tell you, really?” Ian asks Steve with a teasing smile.

“As much as needed, but keep in mind I know when you’ll be lying,” he types.

“And how will you know that, huh?”

“You have a tone.”

“A tone? I don’t have a tone,” Ian grumbles.

“Start talking!”

“Can I get comfortable first? I feel like I’m gonna keel over any second.” Ian tries to get up on his own, but it’s obvious he can’t, so Steve helps him over to the bathroom.

Steve doesn’t think twice about helping him out of his shirt and pants, but he does a double take when he sees the bruises on Ian’s back and ribs. There’s a straight bruise that looks like it was made with a pipe, and Steve can barely contain his rage.

There was no way Ian was going to get out of telling him what was going on. He was done waiting on the sidelines while someone he had growing feelings for, as he had for Ian, took beatings.

Steve takes a wet rag and helps Ian clean his back. He manages to contain his anger. Mostly.

“You’re wearing a scary face, Steve,” Ian sighs. He looks calmer, like he’s relaxing under Steve’s hands. Steve tries to keep from preening under Ian’s tired gaze.

<Is the other guy worse?> he signs, hoping that Ian can get some of what he’s signing.  He’s tired of having to pass his phone back and forth. He makes the effort of mouthing the words so that Ian has a better chance of understanding.

It works.  “Oh, the other guy is fucked,” Ian laughs. “He might be lost right now, but I’m sure the police are going to find him come morning.”

<Sounds like you had fun despite this> Steve comments, poking one of the smaller bruises. 

Ian sucks in a breath anyway. <Are we done here?>

“Let me take a piss,” Ian says, shoo-ing him out of the bathroom.

<No escaping through the window>

“Yeah.  Right.”

Steve goes outside to wait.  He makes use of the time to store his guitar and power down the computer. He changes into his sleeping clothes, and makes sure that Ian’s pajama pants are close so that he can change as soon as he gets out of the bathroom.

Minutes pass, and he can only hear the water running in the bathroom.

Steve is starting to think that maybe Ian did try to escape through the window.  He’s about to knock on the door when it opens and Ian is standing there, looking at Steve with sad drooping eyes.

He kind of wants to hug him.

Instead he takes his hand, helps him get into his sleeping pants and sits him on the bed so they can look at each other while talking.

It feels like it’ll be a conversation that’d go easier with less eye contact between them.  But if Ian wants to know what Steve thinks, he’s going to have to deal with looking at his eyes while he tells his story.

<Talk> Steve tells him when he’s sitting across him.

“I’m not telling you my name,” Ian warns him. “So far people not knowing my name is the thing that helps me the most, so I’m keeping that.”

<Go on then>

Ian takes a deep breath then exhales shakily. It seems like this is bothering him more than he’s letting on. “I… someone in my family made a really bad decision a while ago… bad enough to get him killed.”

Steve takes his hand and locks his fingers between his. It seems to give Ian something to hold on to while he gathers the strength to continue. “I was law enforcement, you’re right about that.”

<Knew it> Steve smiles, trying to be comforting, but his smug smile is giving him away.

“Oh, give me a break,” Ian says with a smile. Steve counts it as a win. “These guys who killed him… they were sure that I was involved somehow, that I had a huge amount of money hidden away. Before they told me about… about my brother’s death… I didn’t even know what he was involved in. He wasn’t the type… not really…”

<So they went after you?> Steve signs and mouths. Ian nods. <What did you do?>

“I ran. I made sure everyone knew I was leaving my wife and my daughter, that they didn’t know shit about what was happening. I wanted them to think I was running with the money do they’d leave them alone.”

So he is married, Steve thinks, his heart sinking. Part of him wants to put a distance between them. It was different when he thought that Ian was a widower who hadn’t forgotten his wife. It was something else to know he was married and he’d thought about cheating, whether he’s on a mission or not.

“My ex-wife made sure to know that if I did what I planned we were through you know?  She managed to mail the divorce papers to the precinct a few days after I went under, my handler got them.”

Ian gives a self deprecating laugh, and Steve feels for him. Stupid Ian, making him feel things all over the place. 

Ian seems to have gone into introspection mode, looking angrier and angrier by the second.

<Did it work? Did they go after you?> Steve prods, trying to get his attention again.

“They did.  They went after me and left my family alone. It helped that Ra-, that my wife  moved out of town and out of the state as soon as she could, taking my daughter with her.”

If Ian seems to choke when he talks about his kid and Steve leans a little closer to him to make sure that he can place his hand on his knee… neither of them comments on it.

“There was a miscalculation, though,” Ian says with such a despairing laugh that Steve wants to hug him again. “I… I left my car on the side of the road, made it look like I had escaped and changed cars, which is basically what I did.  But there was a guy who saw the car and saw a chance… And these guys who behind me… God, they saw a man with a similar built to mine and didn’t waste any fucking time. They killed him, execution style… and they set him and the car on fire.” Ian looks so sad to know this, that there was someone who was dead because they had mistaken him for Ian. “And when they got his body… they saw the car, the bones… and thought it was me.”

Steve sucks in a breath.

“As far as I know, no one knows who that guy was, you know?” Ian continues, and he looks at Steve so directly that he’s starting to get uncomfortable having someone look at his face this much instead of his hands. “You know what’s the kicker? The thing that sent this whole thing to hell?”

<What?>

“They declared me dead.  Someone at the precinct made the rumor mill work and let everyone know that the people who killed this guy had run with the money, that I was dirty.  It was a good rumour, it got shit done.” Ian shrugs. “I mean… My wife and kid were out of town but still in danger…and someone was going to be looking for that money.  So they made sure the cartel’s eyes were directed on those guys who ‘killed me’ and they made it work. They turned up dead a few days later.”

<That’s efficient> Steve says, surprised.

“No, it was scary as fuck, is what it was,” Ian counters. “And the only reason I left to begin with… Anyway, before I left I gave my wife instructions on what to do if anything happened to me.  And about a week or so ago they confirmed it to me - they’ve gone into witness protection.”

<That’s good, right?> Steve asks, a bit confused.

“My daughter, my 10 year old daughter, thinks her dad is dead,” Ian says, angry. “And she’s gone. I have no idea where she is, where they took her. And as far as anyone else knows, I’m dead.  Until I find the son of a bitch who’s after me because of my brother, I can’t even try to find her.” Ian’s words break into a sob. Steve gathers him into his arms, lets him breath and cry against him. “I miss her, so much.”

They stay like that for a while, with Ian breathing heavily against his shoulder and Steve rubbing circles on the unbruised parts of Ian’s body.  When he’s finally a bit calmer Steve puts some distance between them to ask:

<So what is your mission? What do you need to do?>

“I need to position myself as a mover of coke. Bands are actually good for this kind of thing as they have a lot of cases and storage and no one would think twice if the bus unloaded 35 or 34 cases,” Ian says when he’s calmer. He is blushing and looks ashamed about the emotional moment he had.  Steve rubs his thumb over the top of his hand, encouraging him to continue.. “Gutierrez was Marco Reyes’ right hand man in Portland, but I need to be a name in more than one or two cities. So, I needed to get the name of the man in Washington and so on. When the time comes I can feed all this information to the police… and arrange it so that they put Marco Reyes in jail, like the scumbag he is.”

<And you got the name of the next town from the guy tonight?>

“You bet I did,” Ian replies with a tired smile.

They stay like that for a while. Looking at each other, at their hands, and the bruises on Ian’s knuckles.

<Let’s go to bed> Steve says after a while, getting up and helping Ian too. Getting into bed he motions Ian to get closer. <Get over here, I don’t think you need to be alone now>

“I’ve been alone for a while, babe,” Ian sighs, but he gets in anyway. “I shouldn’t have told you any of that, you know,” he says, holding Steve’s hand when it’s offered.  “I’m already in so much shit for telling you.”

<You shouldn’t have to do this on your own, buddy> Steve signs. <You’re not as alone as you think>

Steve’s not sure Ian understands.  But then he takes a deep breath, shudders, and closes his eyes.   He looks so sad, naked and vulnerable that Steve leans over and places their foreheads together. He breathes deeply too.

<S-t-a-y. L-e-t-m-e-h-e-l-p-y-o-u> he spells slowly, so they can stay close together.

“You’re not giving me a choice, are you?” Ian chuckles,  He sounds better already.

<N-o-t-a-c-h-a-n-c-e> Steve laughs. He smiles, he looks at Ian and his big blue eyes, at his stubbled chin and the tears in the corner of his eyes.

He can’t help himself.

He moves just enough to give Ian a peck on the lips. Nothing big, but just enough. When he opens his eyes Ian’s eyes are still closed. He’s breathing deeply.

“Ok, I’ll let you help,” Ian agrees,  sighing and opening his eyes.

<We’re gonna get along great> Steve laughs and signs, before kissing Ian again.

“Is this gonna turn into a thing?”

<Maybe?>

“Go to sleep, you animal, I’m beat… We’ll talk more tomorrow,” Ian says with a small laugh.

Steve could spend a lot of time making sure that Ian keeps laughing, he decides then. It didn’t matter the mess they were in, or that this attraction between them was still unspoken, or that he knew now that Ian wasn’t even his name…

But what’s in a name, right?

**Author's Note:**

> Some words that might need explaining:
> 
> Lele wale  
> to fly, jump, move of one's own accord or for no reason; in ancient prayers, to speed on, as a prayer to a god. ` mama, ua noa, lele wale (The prayer is finished, the kapu is lifted; go, prayer ( or, the kapu is lifted and quite departed).
> 
>  
> 
> Uhane hele  
> a traveling spirit, usually of a living person
> 
>  
> 
> This was written for the Hawaii Five-O Big Bang, and maaaaan am I out of practice. It's been a while since I written anything longer than a couple pages and I have so much more story in my mind about this... so there's bound to be a second part. I can't believe I did this and left it as a sort-a-cliffhanger. I'm so sorry.


End file.
